


Tweet Tweet

by kitausu



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Drabble, Drabble Collection, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Kissing, M/M, Multi, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-25
Updated: 2018-12-25
Packaged: 2019-09-27 10:01:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 943
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17159948
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kitausu/pseuds/kitausu
Summary: A collection of my twitter drabbles too short to post as their own fics





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**Author's Note:**

> Each chapter is a different drabble for twitter

The first Christmas Shiro and Lance spent together, they weren’t really together at all. They weren’t really much of anything actually, barely even friends…just two people who ended up in space together and in each other’s beds on occasion when they can’t sleep and need a little something and well…Lance may be in love with Shiro but Shiro isn’t in love with him and that’s _fine._

Or at least…that was what Lance had been torturing himself with for the better part of six months since Shiro kissed him in the hangar after a mission and turned Lance’s world inside out. Shiro had inserted himself into Lance’s field of vision so completely and so suddenly that the idea of protesting hadn’t even been a whisper in Lance’s mind. No, not when it had been a dream, and not even when it had become a nightmare.

Lance had just let Shiro do what he wanted, hold Lance’s hips hard enough to bruise, pry his mouth open with a demanding tongue. Ultimately, it was a forgone conclusion that Lance would surrender to Shiro so thoroughly and completely and that night had only been a prophecy of what had been to come.

So sure, Lance was suffering because Shiro was everything, to put it mildly. But he was suffering with Shiro’s marks on his throat, fingerprints on his skin, and so he would deal, happily even.

He would deal.

“Lance?” Speak of the devil, or the angel, Lance was never sure at this point.

Shiro was standing over him, a present held out expectantly while everyone watched from their place around the Altean version of a Christmas tree. They all had presents of their own sitting on their knees around in their laps. Shiro must have been playing Santa while Lance was zoning out, feeling bad for himself more like it.

“O-oh, thank you!” Lance tried for a smile but judging by Shiro’s frown, it must have been more of a grimace then anything.

“Lance, are you—”

Waving him off, Lance tried to smile again and felt it come a little more naturally at Shiro’s concern. “I’m fine, honestly.”

Shiro nodded slowly, clearly not convinced but not about to push it on Christmas morning (or their approximation of Christmas morning in space). When Lance took the gift, he expected Shiro to go back to the tree but was surprised instead when Shiro sat down heavily at his side, jostling him with how close they were sitting. Lance could hear the near silent hum of Shiro’s prosthetic softly in his ears.  

When Lance looked at him curiously, Shiro was blushing and looking down at his lap. “Go on, open it,” Shiro urged.

The box was small, squarish, and if Lance hadn’t known better, if it had been for anyone else, he would have said it was jewelry. Shiro seemed weirdly intense as Lance flipped the package around in his hands. His eyes kept flickering between Lance’s fingers where he was carefully peeling away the wrapping paper and Lance’s face, as if gauging his reaction before the gift had even been revealed.

“Shiro,” Lance laughed, trying to dispel the tension, but it was Shiro’s turn to purse his mouth into a frown.

Lance would have said more, already ready to tell Shiro he loved it, no matter what it was, but then he realized what it was he was holding.

It was, in fact, a jewelry box. It was much too big for what Lance’s first thought was, but for just a second he was sure he would open it to see a ring.

The hinges of the box squeaked a little, clearly not used to being opened often. As Lance slowly pried the lid off, he came face to face with a modest silver watch with stars scattered across a dark blue face.  

“I picked it up last time we were at a trading planet,” Shiro explained before Lance could speak.

As the silence stretched, Lance could feel Shiro start to fidget. “It’s okay if you hate it.”

“Shiro,” Lance started, pulling the watch out of box so he could better see it, feel its weight in his hands.

The others were talking, Lance was sure, but he couldn’t hear them over the sound of blood rushing in his ears. He didn’t know what possessed him to turn the watch over, except for the fact that Shiro was sitting so ramrod straight beside him and Lance was terrified to look at him he needed something to do. He was glad he did though, the carving on the back of the watch catching his eye immediately.

_I love you, Lance_

It occurred to Lance then that maybe he had been torturing himself over nothing. Maybe he had been misreading Shiro and judging and denying himself. Maybe it hadn’t been Shiro at all, but Lance, who hadn’t understood the magnitude of what they were doing.

“I shouldn’t have…I should have said it first,” Shiro was clearly agonizing a little and Lance became suddenly aware that his hand was raised as if he was going to snatch the present right out of Lance’s own hands.

“No, I…I love it.” Lance licked his lips.

When he finally found the courage to look up into Shiro’s eyes he saw reflected there all the warmth that had apparently been there all along and Lance had just been missing it. “I love _you_.”

And for the first time when Shiro pulled Lance into his arms, Lance finally, _finally,_ let himself enjoy it, relax in it, be in love with the one he loved and think maybe he even deserved it.


End file.
